


For The Money

by Tay (erentitanjaeger)



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: A/B/O, Camboy Shiro, M/M, Masturbation, Omegaverse
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-15
Updated: 2018-05-19
Packaged: 2019-05-07 04:45:50
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 12,777
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14663604
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/erentitanjaeger/pseuds/Tay
Summary: Keith is broke, tired, overworked and over-stressed.  Luckily for him, his favourite cam-alpha is about to go live.  What better way to let off some steam?





	1. I Could Do That

**Author's Note:**

> As always, thank you to Synne for the commission! You always give me the best work! This will be so fun to see unfold!

Overdue.

Big, red, capital letters blink at Keith from the screen of his laptop.  The amount owed sitting in bright red at the bottom of the page, as if the stamp wasn’t enough.  Keith thinks perhaps he should be worried, or even a little annoyed, but he can’t bring his tired body to feel any of that.  He only feels further exhaustion induced by the notice recently e-mailed to him.  He shuts his eyes, leans back in his desk chair, and takes a deep breath.  Maybe if he ignores it, even for a moment, it will go away.  Maybe his sleep deprived and stressed mind imagined the flashing red letters and the large sum of money he owes but doesn’t have.

Yet, as he blearily opens his eyes again and turns his head back to his laptop screen, it still sits there.  Indiscreet in all the ways an overdue bill knows how to be.

“Not again,” he mutters to himself.  He’s ashamed to admit this is not the first overdue notice he’s received in as many days, and in fact, this has become more of a pattern than he’d ever care to admit.  Yet, his savings have been bled dry.  His scholarship, stretched thin.  His shitty excuse for a part-time job doing nothing to relieve him of this nightmare.

He is tired, stressed from his workload at college, and on his last legs. 

Keith is about to close the tab (it’s not like he can do anything about it tonight), and ignore his growing pile of homework in exchange for a few hours of sleep, when his laptop pings with another incoming e-mail.  Keith groans, expecting another overdue notice, maybe even from the same company, because once you’ve started receiving them, they never stop coming.  Instead, the e-mail he finds is far more well-received than the last.

‘Winged-Lion is about to go live!’

Suddenly, sleep doesn’t seem as appealing to him.

Keith doesn’t need to think about it.  He yanks out the charging chord of his laptop, picks up the device and dumps it on the end of his bed.  He grabs a couple of pillows, placing them where he knows he’ll need them most, and gets comfortable while the appropriate webpage loads.  Yes, he’s penniless, probably past what any normal, college student would call broke.  Yes, he’s got about fifty thousand words worth of assignments to write.  Yes, he has an early shift tomorrow, his only one of the week, so he knows he can’t afford to miss it. 

But Keith is tired of being tired, so only feels mildly regretful as he pays the entrance fee to unlock Winged-Lion’s live cam-show.  He knows that’s all he’ll be able to afford; tipping in this live will be out of the question, but he, at least, will be able to sit back and enjoy the show that will no doubt be unquestionably _good_ , because Winged-Lion _always_ delivers.

Keith grabs the box of tissues he keeps on his bedside table for this reason, shucks off his pants and shirt immediately, briefly entertaining the thought of removing his underwear as well (but honestly can’t be bothered) and waits for the stream to start.

Sure enough, there he is.

All hard muscles, sharp jaw, clean-shaven, sweet, dominating alpha goodness.  He’s beautiful, gorgeous, picture-perfect.  Keith had never thought he was the one to have a type.  He thought bodies were bodies and people were people, yet the moment he saw Winged-Lion, he decided he had been vehemently wrong about himself.  Winged-Lion was a type, most definitely Keith’s type.

Yet, Keith knows Winged-Lion receives hateful messages all the time (it is the internet after-all), for his metal, prosthetic arm, the scars littering his Adonis-like chest and even the shock of white hair that sits on his forehead.  Keith was never bothered by the physical imperfections, finding them attractive in their own right, endearing almost.  If anything, it just makes Winged-Lion seem tougher, even more alpha, like if you fucked with him, he’d fuck with you, and not in the way he’s known to fuck, but Keith knows it all screams the total opposite of what Winged-Lion is.

“Hey, lovelies, I’m so glad to see you all,” Winged-Lion starts, always with the polite greetings and kind words before getting into the nitty-gritty.  Keith smiles to himself, liking how familiar Winged-Lion’s shows have become.  “I hope you’ve all been well; I wouldn’t want you to be otherwise.”

Keith had discovered Winged-Lion in a desperate, heat induced haze.  He had been unbearably horny, unbearably _alone_ , and none of the other porn channels or cam-alphas had been doing it for him.  Keith had found, rather quickly, they were all the same.  They were all rough and overly dominating.  They were good at dirty talk, Keith won’t deny, but the kind of dirty talk Keith wasn’t interested in.  They all relied on words like ‘slut’ and ‘bitch’ to get their viewers off, to get the tips and coins rolling in.  None of it was for Keith.  None of it made his unbearable heat any bearable at all. 

Then, he stumbled across Winged-Lion. 

It had been a last ditch attempt to find good enough content before resorting to his own, feeble imagination.  From his profile, Keith had thought Winged-Lion to be the baddest of the bad.  That he had used all kinds of tough, mental images to get his admirably high following.  Keith had been very wrong.

Winged-Lion is extremely gentle in what he does.  He uses high amounts of praise to deliver his viewers the goods, teases a little, shares dumb anecdotes from his life to help relax himself and his viewers, making for an enjoyable experience with each new show.  Keith finds him incredibly charming, and it doesn’t help that he’s insanely hot as well.  It had been a no brainer, really, to make an account on the site and subscribe to his feed.

Keith has very rarely been able to tip during his lives, or even afford them to begin with.  Normally, he just waits the extra week until they’re uploaded as a free video.  Today, however, Keith wants the world to do him a favour, cut him some slack, and let him have this one, even as the figure of his already overdrawn bank account balance briefly flashes across his mind.

“Wow, there’s already so many of you,” Winged-Lion says.  The man lifts a hefty arm to scratch the back of his head, having the gall to blush.  His feed is high enough quality that Keith can see it, clear as day, on his perfectly, chiselled cheek-bones.  “What are you all doing up so late?”

Keith finds himself blushing, somehow feeling ashamed he’s up past ‘his bedtime’, even though he’s a grown-ass adult and, as a college student, had forsaken the luxury of a bedtime years ago.  That’s the kind of effect Winged-Lion has on him though.  Keith gets so drawn in by his eyes and his soft, baritone voice, by his charm and kind demeanour, he sometimes forgets he’s watching a live-stream, and feels like he’s privy to a private, video chat with someone he’s far closer to.

While Winged-Lion waits for more viewers to log in, he chats.  It’s almost like a Youtuber’s vlog, rather than a cam-boy feed.  Keith settles in, palming himself through his boxers just to get started, enjoying the relaxing atmosphere Winged-Lion gives. 

“I’m sorry, lovelies, I’m not taking requests tonight,” Winged-Lion explains.  “I just thought I’d play with myself for you all to see, than go to bed early.  You’ve all been so good to me lately, I wanted to give you an extra treat.”

Keith’s mouth begins to water.  Honestly, these sessions are his favourite.  The ones where nothing is expected.  Where Winged-Lion just takes his sweet time and lets himself be ogled like the other-worldly creature he is.  Keith twitches on the bed, already growing impatient.  Sure enough, Winged-Lion deems the viewer count satisfactory for now (more are sure to trickle in later) and lies down across his black bedsheets.  He’s wearing nothing but a pair of satin boxers, his camera set up so every part of him can be seen perfectly.  He props his head up with his metal arm, tousles his hair a little as he does, and begins by brushing his fingers across his chest

Keith finds himself whining.  He’s a little embarrassed, that he’s so high-strung that even _this_ has him rearing to go.  He’s already hardening in his own boxers, already wanting to take himself in hand and just begin stroking.  That’s not the aim, however.  Keith always tries to match Winged-Lion’s pace, tries to cum when he does.  It feels infinitely more intimate that way.

Winged-Lion trails his hand down his chest, over his stomach, lightly scratching his happy trail.  Keith finds his eyes growing heavy at the sight.  At the thought of how soft that hair would be, how fun it would be to follow it down, down, down-

Then Winged-Lion is sneaking some fingers under the elastic band of his boxers, snapping it a little, chuckling at the comments that he gets from his fans.  There’s the usual ‘yeah, baby!!’ and ‘take it off!’, with  the expected, perverted ones that Keith prefers to ignore.  There’s the constant ping, ping, ping as the tips flow in.  Small amounts, nothing compared to what Winged-Lion will be earning in only a few short minutes.

“I can’t believe you all want me to strip so soon! Have none of you heard about taking it slow?” Winged-Lion jokes, all the while pushing the rest of his hand down his boxers, cupping himself.

Keith follows his lead, finally wrapping a naked hand around his length, moaning at the sensation.  Wow.  He really is stressed if _this_ is enough.  Still, Keith keeps his eyes locked on the screen, not daring to look away as he watches Winged-Lion’s hand move up and down inside his boxers.

“I’m already pretty hard,” Winged-Lion says, cheeks still a warm pink.  It’s _so_ cute, Keith finds himself thinking, so incredibly real.  “Wow, what you lovelies do to me.”

The comments come flying.  Pleads and praises for Winged-Lion to get naked already.  Keith finds himself agreeing.  He wants to see, wants to lay eyes again on that bulging, hard, pulsing-

“Okay, okay!” Winged-Lion concedes, finally pushing his boxers down his hips.  It’s only enough to catch a glimpse of dark hair and stark hip-bones, but it’s enough for the audience to go wild and the tips to grow thicker.  “Are you happy now?”

“Yes,” Keith finds himself answering breathlessly.  He forces himself to stroke himself gently, slowly, knowing it won’t take him long once he truly starts to find release.

“God, this has me thinking about you,” Winged-Lion talks while he stretches out on his side completely, like a spread across the middle of a porn magazine.  A highly, regarded porn magazine.  “How good it would feel if you were here.  You could take these off for me.”  A little laugh.  “I’d be a lot harder than I am now, though.  I always get hard for you so quickly; it’s rather embarrassing.”

Keith finds himself digging his heels into his mattress.

“Oh, you don’t mind?” Winged-Lion says, his voice so jovial, it makes Keith’s heart soar.  How is this man so genuine?  So unfathomably kind?  Keith berates himself, reminds himself that he’s probably nothing like this in real life.  That, for all Keith knows, Winged-Lion might be a total asshole, and this is all a façade to attract an audience otherwise left unserved.

Keith tells himself he doesn’t care.  That he’ll never meet Winged-Lion in person anyway, so he’s allowed to indulge in this act, to believe Winged-Lion is gentle and sweet even after the camera is turned off and the viewers long stop feeding him tips.

“Th-that makes me feel a little better,” Winged-Lion says as he pushes his boxers down even further.  It’s enough for his dick to finally spring free, and Keith finds himself sitting up straighter to get a better look.

It’s so thick and nicely curved, a beautiful shade of pink at the head, veins throbbing on the underside as Winged-Lion takes it in hand.  He strokes himself lightly, squeezes at the base, over where his knot pulses.  Keith whines, knowing if he was in heat, he’d be dripping slick at this point.  He remembers how much he leaked when he first discovered Winged-Lion’s channel, how hard he had cum at the thought of taking that knot himself.

“Oh god,” Keith breathes, unable to stop himself from beginning to move his hand faster.  He’s completely forgotten to even remove his boxers at this point, using his own pre-cum to slick himself up and start stroking his dick in earnest.  It feels good, and hot, especially with the rumble of Winged-Lion’s voice in the background, his full body on display for Keith to ogle as he goes to town on himself.

Winged-Lion has had to settle on his back a little, to get a better grip as he really starts to stroke his cock.  His cheeks have gone bright red now, and his body has started to shine with sweat.  His chest flushed, nipples perked.  Keith groans at the sight of Winged-Lion throwing his head back as he starts to speed up his movements.

“Yes, yes, just like that,” Winged-Lion’s voice is strained now, and they’re getting to the gold of his live shows.  “You’re really spoiling me!  You’re so good, so good for me.”

Keith whines at the praise, bucking harder into his fist.  He notices how thick Winged-Lion is dripping, how much pools down his dick and over his knot.  Keith wants to lick it off, wants so badly he could cry.

“So messy,” Winged-Lion comments.  “I guess I don’t mind though, not if it’s for you.  I’d get as messy as you want.”

“Messier,” Keith mutters under his breath, knowing it’s a pipe dream.  Even Winged-Lion’s live-streams are a complete treat for him, but he never has anything extra to offer.  He can never tip, or god forbid, join the bidding war the alpha sometimes holds, to see who will choose what he will do in his shows.  This will have to do, and normally it’s more than enough.

For some reason, however, tonight has Keith especially antsy.  He could chalk it up to the stress of his assignments, the stress of his overdue bills, the stress of his goddamn, mess of a life, but all he wants is to sit down on Winged-Lion’s dick and ride it until he can’t see straight.

_Is that too much to ask?_

“Baby, can you go a little longer?” Winged-Lion asks, in a way to get his audience’s attention.  Should he keep going, or finish himself off?  On the surface, Keith wants him to keep going forever.  Would happily sit here all night and watch Winged-Lion slowly get off, even if it meant going to his shift completely sleep deprived.  But Keith knows he won’t last much longer, knows he’s already at the edge and he has no real interest in pulling back.

Thankfully, the audience seems to share his thoughts, screaming in various ways for Winged-Lion to cum and cum hard.

“No?” Winged-Lion doesn’t seem surprised.  “Okay, that’s okay.  You’ve been so good for me.  You deserve a reward.  Let’s cum together, okay?”

In an act of glorious art that Keith will forever cherish in his mind’s eye, Winged-Lion starts moving in earnest.  He fists himself harder, strokes faster, plays with his knot a little every few strokes down.  He twists his hand, plays with his tip, even squeezes his base.  Keith’s eyes burn.  He doesn’t know if he’s blinked at all in the past few minutes, but wouldn’t dare.  Not when Winged-Lion’s face grows strained, his eyebrows pinched, his breath coming in short bursts as he draws closer to his own edge.

“Shit!” Winged-Lion cusses.  That’s how Keith knows he’s for real, that he’s really laying it on himself.  Keith follows his example, follows all of his examples.  Keith lets his hand fly over his dick, twisting and squeezing in all the places Winged-Lion is doing so to himself.  Keith is so incredibly horny, so ready for release, he doesn’t care that he should have lasted longer than this, should have kept closer to Winged-Lion’s pace.

“Oh, God,” Winged-Lion’s voice is beautiful as he fights back his orgasm.  In an act that’s entirely unfair, he locks eyes with the camera, locks eyes with Keith.  “Baby, please, let me cum!”

The chat doesn’t even hesitate, throwing tips so big it makes Keith’s head swim.  Keith’s eyes are locked on Winged-Lion, however, on his entire body.  He’s so big and burly and everything Keith wishes was on top of him right now.  Keith’s body convulses and shakes as he cums, imagining all that muscle and alpha looming over him, watching him with those grey eyes, his legs spread and his hand fixed around his dick while Winged-Lion watches. 

Keith bites his lip to keep himself from crying out, never being one to make noise under the sheets.  His toes curl and his knees bend.  His hips continue to thrust into his hand, chasing off the last of his high, while cum flows from the head of his dick, over his hand and onto his balls.  Keith is left panting, his strokes slowing while the rest of the live-show plays out.

He comes back to himself just in time to watch with rapt attention as Winged-Lion loses it.  Thick beads of semen fly from his tip and all over his chest and stomach.  A little even lands on his chin.  Keith swallows thickly, gulping, as he watches Winged-Lion slowly stroke himself through it, daintily removing his hand from his cum-soaked dick to wipe his chin with his arm.

“Wow,” he breathes, letting his head loll back.  His skin is flushed, his hair is a mess, but his expression?  It’s so soft and relaxed, Keith wishes he were there to stroke Winged-Lion’s cheeks.  To share in the after-glow, to trade lazy kisses; soft and sweet and all the things Winged-Lion presents himself to be in bed.  “That was pretty incredibly, lovelies.”

As always, he’s flooded with praise in the chat.  Keith finds himself going red, more so than the flush of endorphins and rush of blood have done.  Winged-Lion is still looking at the camera, a lazy expression on those gorgeous features.  He lays there, dick softening right on camera, cum trickling in thick rivers down his abbs, glistening chest rising and falling.  Keith’s heart quickens in his chest, and just for a moment, forgets that Winged-Lion can’t see him, forgets that he’s sharing this view of the alpha with countless other people just as horny as him.

Keith swallows, shivers, until finally Winged-Lion blinks, coughs, and begins to right himself.  It breaks the spell, but the buzzing in Keith’s mind doesn’t dissipate.

“As always, thank you for watching.  You know I wouldn’t be here without your devotion,” Winged-Lion is saying.  He’s stretched a blanket (a pale, pink, fluffy one) over himself, having thrown away his boxers completely.  He sits there, talking to the camera; almost bashful, definitely humble.  “I’m going to go shower and then head to bed; you’ve really taken it out of me this time.”

There’s a couple of messages begging him not to go, a few asking if Winged-Lion will leave the feed on while he showers, all accompanied by large sums of coins.  Keith’s sleep deprived, overly stressed and frazzled mind finds himself fixating on them.  On the gold circle beside the number that shows how much each person is tipping.  They vary in amount, but never drop below triple digits.  Winged-Lion continues to talk, saying the usual about subscribing to his channel for future updates and a final farewell, promising something a little steamier next time.  All the while, the coins continue to roll in.

Keith scoffs.  How easy this man has it, he thinks.  That he can do nothing special but jerk off on camera, talk in that sweet, robust voice, and still earn enough probably to cover Keith’s outstanding rent three times over.  That all he has to do is bat his eyelashes, flash those well-toned pecs and smile, and his food money lands in his lap.  Keith is jealous.  A little irritated.

It must be so easy to be a cam-boy.

In amongst his tired and angry thoughts, Keith almost misses Winged-Lion’s wave to the camera before he shuts it off.  Keith waves back, before realising how stupid that must look.  He looks down at his lap, at the mess he’s made of his boxers and himself.  He reaches for the tissues, quickly wiping away what cum he can, scrubbing a little harder in the places it’s already dried, before yanking his boxers back up over his hips.  Keith slams his laptop shut, shoves it to an undisclosed corner of the bed, and collapses into his pillows.

As he lets his exhausted body and mind do the rest of the work, the leaving rush of his orgasm making it that much easier, he thinks over the numbers he saw flashing across the screen on Winged-Lion’s feed.  He thinks about how Winged-Lion acted for the camera, how everyone adored him for it.  He thinks about how little effort seemed to go in to it, all those coins Winged-Lion can cash in for a little under two hours of work, for just getting horny in front of a bunch of strangers.

“I could do that,” is the last thing he says as what little sleep he is allowing himself finally takes over, his last resolve settling in the forefront of his mind, to be discovered upon awakening.


	2. Something New, Something Borrowed, Maybe some Lube

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Shiro needs something new, and finds exactly what he's looking for in Kool-Kat's channel.

Good.

Good not great, but not bad.

Shiro finishes tallying up his profits for the week, looking over the numbers one last time to make sure they’re correct, circling the four digit number at the bottom of the page.  It’s nothing to sneeze at, he knows.  He can still enjoy himself, go out with friends, pay groceries and bills, add a little more to his savings.  He shouldn’t be worried.

Except, he is.

This ‘good not great’ number has been staring at him every week for almost three months now.  Allura has told him time and time again that flat numbers are not bad.  Shiro argues they’re not good either.  Flat numbers are excellent when starting out; it means you have a steady audience and can rely on them for a fixed income.  However, Shiro is far past ‘starting out’.  He’s been doing cam-work for years now, and flat numbers are a bad sign.

Flat numbers mean he’s grown placid, safe, comfortable.  It means he’s not improving, and there’s a chance his audience may notice this and grow tired of him.

Shiro sighs, scratching the back of his head, a tension headache forming as he looks at the number again. 

It’s not that he’s obsessed with fame, and he likes to think he’s not obsessed with numbers, but it becomes hard not to worry when his channel seems to be on the verge of a dip, something he would rather not see.  Realistically, Shiro is aware his viewer count would need to take a hefty dive before he’d have to truly start worrying, but he’s always been about pre-emptive action; finding a solution before it becomes a problem.

He opens a chat with Allura on his laptop, sending her through his week’s earnings.  Luckily, she’s online, and replies almost instantly.

“Good, not great? I’m guessing?”

Shiro chuckles, slightly hating that he’s that easy to read even over the internet, and sends a reply in agreement.

There’s a chime from the speakers as Allura opens a call.

“I understand where your worries are coming from, Shiro,” she starts after their initial greetings and ‘how are you’s.  “But your viewer count is still solid, your earnings haven’t dropped in three months.  Why is it such a bad thing?”

“Because it’s like eating the same cereal every day for sixteen years, than waking up and realising ‘hey wait, why don’t I try another cereal?’”

“You’re worried your viewers will leave you?”

“Not that they’ll leave,” Shiro chooses his words carefully.  “More, they won’t come back.  If I can’t offer anything new, anything that they will want to keep seeing, they’ll find it in another channel.”

Shiro can practically hear Allura role her eyes, despite the lack of video feed.

“Have you thought of doing another collab?  The last one went really well!”

Shiro had thought of that, then he’d quickly burnt through his entire list of prospects.  The other cam-workers he’s familiar with are either too far away, too famous even for him, or too not his type.  Collabing, especially with cam-workers, is about mutual respect and a willing to trust in the other while on camera.  Yet, just like himself, how his friends or colleagues behave off-screen is entirely different to the act they put on when the little, red light starts flashing, and Shiro doesn’t like some of the personas he knew he’d have to work with.

“I feel like I’ve collabbed with everyone I can at least twice,” Shiro explains.  “It’s still not offering anything new.”

Allura hums.

They end their chat by throwing around a few more suggestions, ones Shiro says he’ll think on, before saying goodnight.  Then, Shiro is left with a sheet of paper displaying a disappointing number, and a channel full of notifications he hasn’t bothered to check.  Comments, private messages, even new tips.  They might have made Shiro feel better any other time, but today, he only feels like wallowing in his own misery and insecurities.

What better way to do so then finding release the best way he knows how?

Contrary to popular belief, cam-workers usually find sex enjoyable even off camera.  It’s not that hard to distinguish the difference between sex-work and sex-play.  Only a few of his friends understand that Shiro has a very particular kind of porn he likes, and surprisingly, it’s not the kind he delivers himself. 

Needless to say, Shiro can be flexible.  He’s willing to try most kinks at least once (maybe not always on camera, however) and as long as ample communication is involved, he has no problem in discovering new parts of himself with a partner.  Yet at the end of the day, Shiro loves watching a very particular kind of guy get plowed by another particular kind of guy.

His search history is filled with words like ‘small’, ‘tiny’ and ‘twink’.  His suggested feed seems to be hefty with all that and more tonight, so he takes his time scrolling through the new videos.  Some are a few days old, some a few weeks.  All of them skinny, white boys moaning on camera while they take dildos that should be considered too large for them.  Honestly, none of them interest Shiro. 

He resigns that perhaps tonight is not his night, and he should just go to bed early.  Maybe a fresh start to a new day is what he needs more than jerking off in private, as appealing as the thought had been.  In a last ditch effort, Shiro clicks the tab for current live shows, scrolls down slightly and is about to accept his ‘new day’ plan when his eye lands on one thumbnail in particular.

He’s small, Shiro can already see, but well built.  He’s clearly taken care of his body, which Shiro can appreciate.  From his profile, Shiro can see he’s an omega, and as Shiro pays the entrance fee to the show, decides that he’s a very pretty omega.  He goes by Kool-Kat (Shiro has mild flashbacks to his days on myspace and deviantart).  Currently, he’s lying on a bed, surrounded by white sheets, white pillows and white curtains.  The live must have only recently started, because the omega is still greeting his audience, lazily draped over his bed sheets and pillows while he talks to the camera.

Shiro turns up his volume just as the omega lets out a laugh to one of the comments in the chat, and it’s like a finely tuned harp; sweet and tinny in the most melodically of ways.  Shiro finds himself instantly entranced by this omega.  His hair is a mess, but a good mess.  A literal, hot mess.  It’s shaggy but obviously clean, if the sheen to it is anything to go by.  Kool-Kat’s eyes are a bright mauve, and Shiro wonders if he wears contacts for his show. 

What Shiro notices last, and perhaps is the point, is that beyond Shiro’s own particular type of men, there’s nothing that could be considered special about this omega.  He’s not dressed in lacy strings of lingerie.  He’s not moaning just from the first touches he’s beginning to give himself.  He’s not spread out wide on the bed the first five minutes into his feed.  With Kool-Kat, what you see is what you get.  A beautiful, lithe and honest omega who is comfortable enough to share his body with the internet.

To that, Shiro can relate.

Kool-Kat stretches out lazily on his bed, still palming himself.  He’s merely wearing a white tank top and a black choker around his throat.  It’s casual enough to be considered something Kool-Kat had been wearing all day, and was too lazy to change out of for his show.  Either way, it draws the eye perfectly, Shiro already salivating at the thought of ripping that choker off with his teeth and biting at the perfect scent gland to be found underneath.

“Wow, you guys are being lazy today,” Kool-Kat is saying, still stretching, still stroking.  Shiro realises Kool-Kat has angled himself in such a way that the audience can’t see his cock yet, only the smooth, stretch of a pale thigh and his working hand.  A tease.  Shiro licks his lips, finding he likes it.  “Normally you’ve already got me showing off to you all.  What’s the matter?  Cat got your tongue?” 

There’s a few instant replies in the chat, some overly keen and begging to see Kool-Kat show himself, others preferring to play the game, calling him a tease in return.  Kool-Kat only laughs, that smooth laugh Shiro is quickly becoming addicted too.

In no time at all, Shiro pays the extra fee to be able to be part of the chat.  He doesn’t want to seem egotistical, but on the off chance this omega has heard of him, he’d rather enjoy this like any of the other horny audience members, and chooses to remain anonymous.  He’s assigned the username Anon124 for the moment.

“You’re really beautiful,” Shiro finds himself typing.  Even when watching porn, he’s ever the romantic.  Even when giving it rough, he tries to keep his words gentle.  There’s something about communication, especially during the very act of sex, that keeps Shiro rock hard and able to keep going.  Maybe he let that seep a little into his own live shows, but he’s hoping Kool-Kat will share his affinity for peaceful banter.

“Thank you, one twenty-four,” Kool-Kat replies, eyeing the camera.  Shiro’s heart stops in his chest, those eyes seeming to pierce right through him.  He’s not sure how, but Kool-Kat’s eyes only seem to darken.  The camera isn’t the greatest quality, something that tips Shiro off that Kool-Kat hasn’t been doing cam-work for that long, but it’s good enough that Shiro can pick up the tell-tale twinkle in those inky depths.

Shiro finds himself wishing they’d sparkle more, for entirely different reasons, for reasons Shiro wants to be the one to make happen.

“Alright boys and girls,” Kool-Kat’s voice is calm and collected, which is surprising, considering how long his channel has been active for.  Shiro sees his channel is a little over a few months old.  Even at this stage, unless they’ve done porn before, unexperienced cam-workers usually still have that slight lilt to their voice, the one that says they’re nervous, despite the bravado they try to play. 

With Kool-Kat, he sounds completely natural. 

“I’ll show you mine if you show me yours.”

Shiro snorts at the lame joke.  It seems to work however, as the audience begins to send in their tips.  Shiro notices it’s nothing close to what he considers a good tip, and certainly nothing he’d take his clothes off for, but it seems to play well for Kool-Kat, who finally twists his hips around so the audience can see him in all his glory.

To Shiro, he’s not just tantalising, he’s breathtaking.  He’s everything Shiro has ever wanted in a partner, in a mate, and the instinct to reach through the screen and claim Kool-Kat as his is phenomenally strong.  Shiro understands this attraction is based on looks and what little he’s seen of Kool-Kat so far.  It’s all from alpha instinct that makes him feel like this, but considering Kool-Kat is probably banking on that instinct from him and any other alpha watching, he figures it’s okay to indulge a little.

That instinct is what has Shiro taking the largest tip he saw, and doubling it.

He sees the flicker of surprise on Kool-Kat’s face, watches his movements stutter as he takes in the amount, quickly calculating how much that would be worth once cashed in.

“Wow, one twenty-four.  Someone’s feeling generous,” Kool-Kat quickly falls back into his act, spreading his legs a little.  Shiro chokes upon seeing the butt plug.  The red, rhinestone tip reflecting the light beautifully and standing out perfectly against Kool-Kat’s skin tone.  Shiro reaches under his desk, not wasting time in slipping a hand under his shorts and finding himself half-hard.  “What do I have to do to get a little more of that generosity?”

It takes Shiro a moment to realise Kool-Kat is talking to him.  _Specifically_ to him.  He swallows around a lump in his throat, squeezing himself, realising how quickly this omega is affecting him.

Shiro has been with plenty of omegas.  He’s no stranger to how alpha hormones play a role when mixed with that of an omegas, making him a little stir-crazy, a little drunk on lust and sweet pleasure.  Yet, even when getting physical, an omega has never affected him this much.  Maybe it’s because, simply put, Kool-Kat is pretty.  Maybe it’s because he’s exactly Shiro’s type, and the kind of guy Shiro would love to take home to his family at Christmas if things were to get serious.  Maybe it’s because he has a rut coming up.

Shiro doesn’t know why, all he knows is that he wants.

Quickly, Shiro lets his fingers fly over the keyboard.

“Got any toys?”

Kool-Kat laughs at that.  Shiro is very thrilled at the knowledge that he was the one to make that sound happen.

“You’re impatient, aren’t you?  How long’s it been since you got off?”

Shiro wants to reply with something equally as snarky.  “Far more recently than you might think.”

Kool-Kat laughs again.  “Okay, big guy, reel it in.  I am on show, after all.”  While saying all this, Kool-Kat reaches off camera, pulling in a bright red, ribbed dildo.  It’s not large, but Shiro recognises the brand, and knows it doubles as a vibrator.  His mouth instantly begins to water.  “You’ll have to share,” Kool-Kat locks eyes with the camera, and licks it.

“Shit,” Shiro breathes, not needing to palm himself anymore to know he’s rock hard and ready. 

Quickly, Shiro gets comfortable.  He rolls his chair a little away from his desk, angles his laptop so he can still see Kool-Kat as perfectly as the grainy feed will let him, shoves his shorts down his hips a little and takes himself in hand.  He’s not even surprised at this point to find himself already leaking.  He’s not even upset about it.

Somehow, this is exactly what he needed tonight.  To get horny and hot and to get it quickly, without prejudice.

“How much for me to take this up the ass?” Kool-Kat remarks, pointing the aforementioned toy at the camera.  Shiro laughs himself, liking Kool-Kat’s quips and sense of humour.

If anything, this omega has definitely learnt, rather quickly, how to get a reaction from his audience.  The tips fly in, the amounts much larger now, but still nothing Shiro would so much as take off his shirt for.  Something inside him, some primal instinct, has him leaning in and once again, taking the largest tip and doubling it.  He won’t lie, he likes to be top dog, now more than ever it seems.

“One twenty-four, you are now my favourite,” Kool-Kat says, no longer wasting time as he carefully pries the butt plug from inside him. 

It vacates with a pop, and Shiro has to breathe through his teeth as he watches a healthy amount of lube leak from his hole.  It’s too shiny and too thick to be slick, Shiro is happy to note, knowing a lot of cam-omegas, especially those starting out, take an unhealthy amount of drugs to induce a heat so they can produce slick, thinking it will make them famous much quicker.  What they fail to understand is that if you know what you’re doing, you don’t need to rely on cheap theatrics to give the audience what they want.

Clearly, Kool-Kat knows what he’s doing.

Shiro watches with bated breath as Kool-Kat slicks up the dildo with even more lube and presses it to his hole.  His legs are spread, his hair spilling over his shoulders.  His throat works under the choker, the choker Shiro still wants to rip off with his teeth.  Then Kool-Kat is pushing it in, slowly, one rib at a time.  He no longer plays unaffected, his mouth opening wider as it goes deeper, his eyes fluttering with each rib that breaches his hole.

Pretty soon, the toy is as deep as it will go.

Shiro’s hand is tight around his cock, his pre-cum providing ample slick of his own so his hand can move freely.  He groans, grits his teeth, and bores his eyes into his laptop screen, watching as Kool-Kat adjusts around the intrusion, getting comfortable against the pillows.

“Oh, oh, fuck,” Kool-Kat stammers, his voice breathy, but no acute moans have left his lips yet.  Shiro likes that, likes that Kool-Kat seems to know, whether consciously or not, that there’s something to be desired in finding out more at a slower pace.  It’s more enticing when there’s something to be earned.

Oh, how Shiro wishes to earn those sounds.

Shiro leans in again, quickly typing a new amount, and sending it through with a message.  It’s growing harder to type with one hand, but he’s making it work, if anything just to hear Kool-Kat address him again, even if it is by that dumb number.

“Turn it on.”

Kool-Kat is busy still adjusting to the toy, moving it copiously inside of himself to find the best angle to sit at while he works, but once he glances up and notices the generous tip, he smiles.  Shiro’s heart skips a beat.  His cock throbs.  His lip almost bleeds as he bites into it.

“Whatever you say, big guy.”

The humming is quiet, but as Kool-Kat settles into a rhythm with the buzzing toy, Shiro finds his ears tune into it more and more.  Kool-Kat is on his side now.  One leg flat against the sheets, the other bent at an angle, his elbow propping him up and the other arm working the toy in and out of himself.  It’s a very flattering angle.  Shiro can see _everything._

“Shit,” Kool-Kat breathes, hair falling over his face as his head droops.  Shiro notices a shiver run over his body.  “Shit, this feels so good.  Oh god, more.  I need more.”  He looks over his shoulder, hair slightly sweaty on his forehead now, cheeks flushed, eyes watery with pleasure.

It works like a dream, the audience throwing tips his way, begging for him to turn it up.  Kool-Kat smiles, thanks his audience, and presses the button.  The buzzing grows infinitely louder.  Shiro knows it’s not the most expensive of toys, it only has two settings, but Shiro can see from how Kool-Kat is trembling around it and breathing harshly that it’s more than enough for the omega.

Shiro’s own hand flies over his cock, his strokes becoming fast and clumsy.  He watches the toy intently, imagines it’s his own cock filling that beautiful hole, that he’s the one making Kool-Kat tremble and choke on his breath while he’s filled and fucked.  Shiro wants to bite those shoulders, bony and bare but a beautiful shade of pink.  He wants to kiss and suck and mark.

Shiro finds himself lifting his hips, bucking wildly into his hand, breathing harshly.

“There!” Kool-Kat squeals, actually squeals, as he finds his prostate and begins to abuse it, rocking back onto the toy.  “There!  _Yes!  There!”_

Shiro groans, throws his head back, and cums to the sound of Kool-Kat unloading unto himself.  His eyes are shut, but he can still hear Kool-Kat whimper and moan.  They’re not loud, they’re not forced.  They’re natural and lovely and everything Shiro wants to hear right now as he relaxes his hand.  He sits there, leaning back in his chair, chest rising and falling rapidly as he comes down from what was an amazing orgasm.

Shiro can’t remember the last time he came so hard from watching something so simple.

“Oh, fuck,” Kool-Kat is cussing. 

Shiro returns his attention back to the feed, just in time to watch as Kool-Kat drags the toy out of himself, sitting up gingerly.  He’s a mess.  Lube and cum over his ass and stomach.  Shiro groans, wanting so desperately to be there to clean it up.

“Thanks guys,” Kool-Kat breathes, still panting as he comes down from his own high.  “This was fun.  You’ve all been amazing.  You got me off so good.”  He hangs his head as he lets out a few more broken pants.  Shiro can see how hard he’s working to breathe.  “One twenty-four especially, if you ever feel like telling me your name, message me for a private show.  I want to see how big a tip I can wrangle out of you.”

Shiro finds himself blushing.  Now that his alpha instincts have settled, he’s not feeling nearly as cocky as before, but it definitely warms his chest to know he’s left a lasting impression on this beautiful omega.

With that, Kool-Kat waves goodbye and shuts off the feed.  Shiro is left staring at his own reflection on a black screen, taking in his own quaking shoulders and sweaty hair.  He doesn’t need to look down to know how much of a mess he’s made of himself.

Thinking back over the past hour, Shiro very quickly comes to the realisation that all his answers have fallen right into his lap.  He needs something new and exciting yet irretrievably still _him_ to give to his audience, and Kool-Kat emanates so much of what Shiro loves about cam-work, he _knows_ they’d fit together seamlessly.  He can already see his type of charm slotting in with Kool-Kat’s humour and quick wit so effortlessly, and providing something that is rarely seen from cam-workers.

Not just that, but Shiro is delighted to realise that Kool-Kat is the one particular kind of guy he likes to watch get plowed by the other particular kind of guy he, himself, is. 

Without a moment’s hesitation, with gusto he didn’t even know he had, Shiro grabs a tissue to wipe himself clean with, tucks himself back in and rolls himself closer to his laptop.  He quickly opens Kool-Kat’s channel page, smashing the subscribe button and opening a private message request.

“Hey, this is Anon124.  I also run a channel called Winged-Lion; maybe you’ve heard of it.  Anyway, wanna do a collab?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Let me know what you think <3


	3. Three Years Later

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Keith reflects on the life he's made for himself, then comes to terms with maybe having to share what little of his life the internet hasn't seen yet.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry for the time skip ;;

If at all possible, Keith would love to go back in time three years and punch himself in the face.  For being an ignorant little prick.  For not doing his goddamn research.  For thinking, even for a moment, that being a cam-boy would be _easy_.  Because it’s not, and it’s been the longest three years of Keith’s life.

That being said, it’s also been the greatest three years of Keith’s life.

Keith sighs happily.

“What’s that for?” The chest underneath his head rumbles as the owner talks, and Keith delights in how deep that voice is.  Deep and soft.  A gentle rumble that has become such a cornerstone of Keith’s life, he doesn’t even want to think of what his life would be like if things had gone differently, and he’d have to live without it.

Keith props his chin up on his hands so he’s looking into Shiro’s face.

“Do you ever think about what your life would be like if you hadn’t become a cam-alpha?  If we hadn’t met?” His voice isn’t accusatory at all, just curious, as he shares his train of thought with his mate.

“I don’t like to think about it,” Shiro provides, running a gentle hand through Keith’s hair.  Keith hums at the affection.

“Me neither,” he says, kissing Shiro’s chest before lying down on it again.  Shiro doesn’t remove his hand, simply continues to card it through Keith’s hair.

Keith has been doing cam-work for just under three years now.  He’s been doing collabs with the famous Winged-Lion for two of those years.  He’s shared a joint channel (they promptly named Red-and-Black) with said famous Winged-Lion for a year and a half, and he’s been bonded and mated with Takashi Shirogane for one year. 

One, glorious year.

Granted, Keith hadn’t broken into the industry as easy as he had first thought.  Those first few months had been gruelling, hard, degrading and disappointing.  Just like any art, cam-work is about finding your niche and sticking with it, experimenting as much as you’re comfortable with, then slowly building a following.  Some built it faster than others.  Shiro always tells Keith he had been impressed with the amount of followers Keith had gained by the time Shiro had first watched his mate’s live, told him it was unusual for new cam-boys. 

Keith thinks Shiro just likes to flatter him.

It goes without saying that their first collab had been an unmitigated success.  Keith had been terrified upon learning Anon124 had been his porn star idol, Winged-Lion.  That Winged-Lion loved his channel, that Winged-Lion wanted to collab with him.  He had been terrified about fucking up, and ruining Shiro’s reputation.  He had been terrified, and beyond exhilarated.

They had performed on Keith’s channel, at Keith’s request, because he wasn’t sure how he’d go in front of Shiro’s much larger audience.  Shiro had agreed.  Shiro had agreed to a lot of what Keith had requested, and as they talked, met in person and talked some more, Keith became so infinitely comfortable around Shiro, that the next time they decided to collab (and he couldn’t believe there had been a next time), it was on Shiro’s channel.

Eventually, they had started collabing so much, it was a no brainer to combine their channels together.

Especially once they had begun officially dating.

What Keith had started as a way to make a quick buck, pay his bills, to break out of his dead-end coffee shop job, had become a solid career that he adored and cherished with all his heart.  It was just as much a part of himself as Shiro had become, and he found himself owing a lot of what he was today to Shiro himself; the cam-boy who started it all.

Shiro shifts beneath him, and Keith sits up so they can settle beside each other.

It’s quiet outside on their terrace.  The sky a deep purple as the sun shares its last rays with the day.  The limited stars that are in the city begin to twinkle down at them from their place in the sky.  It’s Keith’s favourite time of day, but only when he can share it with Shiro.

“So, I have a question for you?” Shiro starts, almost sheepishly.

Jokingly, Keith punches him in the shoulder.  It always amazes him how shy Shiro can be.  Outside of work, outside of a heat or rut, Shiro is adorably bashful.  It’s endearing as fuck, and Keith wouldn’t change it for the world, but he finds it comes out at odd times. 

“Shoot,” Keith says, settling under the weight of his alpha’s arm around his shoulders.

“You’re heat is coming up, correct?”

Keith hums against Shiro’s neck.  “You know my schedule just as well as I do, Shiro.  Of course, it’s coming up.  What about it?”

“Well, what if we did something different this time?”

This perks Keith’s interest. 

Normally, Keith’s heat means they, obviously, take the time off work.  They post a notice and disappear off their channel for up to a week.  Realistically, Keith’s heat only lasts a couple of days, but they like the extra time before to prepare and the time after to rest and re-cooperate.  It also means retying bonds that were probably never frayed, but Keith likes to strengthen anyway.

“Like, go to a hotel or something?” Keith asks, pulling away from Shiro, only far enough so he can look into those large, grey eyes. 

“Well, not just that,” Shiro says.  He’s careful as he thinks over his words.  Keith lets him.  “I mean, why don’t we do a live during your heat?”

Keith was speechless.

Live heats weren’t unheard of.  In fact, they were insanely popular, especially when done right.  When they weren’t forced by drugs, or worse, acted out, they were some of their website’s most popular streams.  However, there was a stigma around them.  Heats were supposed to be a very special, a very intimate act shared between an alpha and an omega.  Even if it was simply a casual heat and no bond, or even relationship, is shared beyond it, it’s largely frowned upon to share it with the world, especially for money.

Keith had never shared this judgemental view on it, always believing that so long as it was consensual for all parties, who was he to judge how people made money.  He had never thought he’d be the one to do it, however.

“You can say no,” Shiro quickly intervenes Keith’s thought process.  “Of course you can say no, it’s entirely up to you, and please don’t think I’m using your heat as a cheap trick to make more money-“

“I’d never think that.”

“Oh.  Okay, good.”

It’s quiet between them.  Keith continues to look Shiro in the eyes, who is forced to gaze back at him.

“I think it would be fun,” Shiro continues. 

Keith thinks about it a little more.  “It would be hot, I’m not denying that.  I just think, it’s none of their business?”

As a cam-worker, as a famous cam-worker, Keith is left very little privacy.  Of course, Shiro only shares with their followers what they mutually agree upon.  Keith has said no to things like intimate shots he took of Shiro coming out of the shower, or a beautiful photo they took of themselves in the morning glow of the sun after having just woken up.  All things Keith thought too intimate, too sacred, to make public just for attention.

Shiro undoubtedly respects that, and has had his fair amount of times when he’s also disagreed with sharing something Keith’s wanted to.

It’s what has made their relationship work so well, that they can understand either side of each other’s arguments, without the arguing.  No explanation necessary, just a resounding no is enough.  It’s been a huge comfort to Keith, but it doesn’t make saying no any easier, especially when he can tell it’s something that Shiro really wants to do.

“I’m not saying we’ll show the whole heat.  It’d only be an hour, just a few rounds.  It can be at the start, so you’re more lucid to what’s going on,” Shiro explains further.  Clearly, he’s thought this out.

It does sound appealing, Keith thinks.  Not just because of the money, but because he won’t deny he’s a little turned on at the thought of Shiro getting as possessive as he does on camera for everyone to see.  He’ll parade Keith like a precious jewel, put on a show of getting Keith off, of owning him, and if that doesn’t tick all of Keith’s boxes, he’s not sure what will.

“I don’t know,” Keith answers honestly.  Shiro, of course, doesn’t get mad.  Only nods, and leans in to kiss Keith’s lips comfortingly.  “Can I have a few days to think about it?” Keith asks once they’ve parted, but keeps a hand on the back of Shiro’s neck, so he doesn’t go far.

“Baby, you can have a few years to think about it.”

Shiro smiles.  That overly warm and comforting smile that has Keith smiling in return. 

“You sure you wanna be stuck with me that long?” Keith chides, nestling back against Shiro’s chest, so when his mate speaks, it sounds so much deeper, makes him feel so much safer.

“Of course,” Shiro wraps his arms around Keith’s waist, kissing his hair.  It makes Keith smile even wider, blush a little even, and lean back against a man who he used to lust over on a laptop screen, but now enjoys the mutual respect and unconditional love of every day of his life.


	4. Lights, Camera, Action

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Shiro and Keith begin their live-heat, discovering new values to being cam-boys, and new values to being with each other.

The king-sized, canopy bed sits perfectly centre in the room.  The large bathroom holds a marble spa bath.  The kitchen is well stocked with cooking tools and food they had requested beforehand.  There are two TVs.  One, sitting across from the large, six seater couch and the other mounted to the wall adjacent to the bed.  It’s the most luxurious room Keith has ever seen.  Shiro really spared no expense.

The camera is set up, settings adjusted, lighting sorted.  Pillows are all aligned along the head of the bed like how Keith likes them.  They opted for no toys, figuring that their first live-heat should be as intimate as they can make it; just them.  Keith didn’t want to put on any more theatrics than he would be already. 

He stands off to the side while Shiro finishes plugging in the laptop and logging in, setting up the chat and feed, ready to go live as soon as they’re ready.  Shiro’s brow is furrowed while he works, inputting display settings and sending the link out via their twitter account.  The afternoon sun hits him just right, making his skin glow and highlighting that auburn tan that makes Keith weak at the knees.

Keith thinks about biting that skin, and then having it loom over him.  Those firm muscles pressing his body down, working as Shiro pistons his hips against his ass, wet skin slapping and filling the room-

“Keith?”

Keith blinks, snapping out of his thoughts and swaying on the spot.  Yes, his heat is definitely here and raring to go.  All it would take is a whiff of Shiro’s scent gland to get it started, as if the mere sight of his alpha in nothing but a pair of black, boxer briefs weren’t enough.

“I’m good,” Keith lies, tipping forward.  Shiro is there to catch him in an instant.  Keith isn’t sure if he’s taking advantage of the sudden close proximity to nuzzle against Shiro’s chest, or if it’s that he really can’t stand.  “Thought I was using my legs,” Keith mumbles as way of an explanation.

Shiro laughs, low, deep and fond.  Keith smiles against his alpha’s skin.

“It’s all ready,” Shiro says, rubbing large hands up and down Keith’s spine.  Keith sighs into Shiro’s hold. 

“Give me a minute,” Keith snuggles closer.  He presses his nose to Shiro’s collarbone, the highest point he can be bothered to reach at this time, kissing and nibbling a little.  Shiro’s touches don’t stop, only grow more intense.  One hand cups the back of Keith’s neck possessively, the other presses to the small of his back.  Keith can hear the growl growing in Shiro’s chest, even as Shiro tries to hide it.

“We don’t have to do this,” Shiro’s voice is thick with a desperation Keith recognises all too well.  The kind of desperation Shiro wears only when they’re alone, only when he truly, irrevocably _wants_ Keith.  It’s the desperation Keith tries to earn every time they do this, and gets it without question every heat they share together.  “Say the word, and I’ll take down the live.  We can settle on the bed and fuck like rabbits; just you and me.  No one has to be a part of this.”

Keith’s heard it over and over again in the past weeks.  Even after he agreed and the conditions were set, Shiro constantly reminded Keith he could pull out at any moment he chose, even if they’ve already started filming.  Keith knows this, but some part of him is curious, and considering it will only be once at the very beginning of his heat, he figures it’s okay to explore the idea.  He’s comforted to know that if he wishes, this will be the first and only time he’ll share his heat with a bunch of perverts.

Yet, Keith is realising perhaps it’s not himself who needs the out.

“You too,” Keith says into Shiro’s skin, as coherently as he can.  “If you don’t want to do this, if you’ve changed your mind, just tell me.”

Shiro’s fingers tighten around his mate.

“As a cam-boy, as a person, I definitely want to do this.  As an alpha, however, I’m finding it hard coming to terms that I’m about to share my omega with a very large audience.”

Keith smiles.  He loves Shiro’s protectiveness, especially during his heats.  He never feels safer than he does when he’s in Shiro’s arms.

Keith pulls back, to look into Shiro’s eyes, to say as earnestly as he can.

“I love you.  So much.  Nothing will change that.”  Like clockwork, he feels himself tearing up at how deep and true his words are.  “I trust you so deeply with my body and life.  I know you would never, could never, hurt me.”

Shiro moves only to place his hands under Keith’s arms so he’s lifted like he weighs nothing and brings their bodies together.  Keith immediately wraps his limbs around Shiro like a tree, and their lips meld together, hot and intense.  Keith feels his world turning as Shiro carries him to the bed, where he’s immediately pressed into the mattress, the whole of their bodies aligned as Shiro decides to suck the life out of him through his lips.

Keith welcomes it, spreads his legs to let Shiro closer, inhales, and feels his mind go blank.

They separate after a time, and Shiro leaves only long enough to turn the camera on.  Keith can see the flashing, red light.  He knows he’s now live to thousands of viewers.  He knows this is it.  Yet, as Shiro returns to encasing Keith’s body under his own, Keith doesn’t feel nervous, or worried.  He just feels safe, and wanted.

He knows, soon, he’ll feel absolutely fucked.

“Hey lovelies,” Shiro starts, and Keith only smiles and runs his hands over Shiro’s chest above him while the alpha talks and starts the show.  They had already agreed that Shiro would do most, if not all, of the talking.  Keith is to concentrate on himself and how he is feeling at all times.  The moment he feels uncomfortable, or insecure, he’s to tell Shiro, and Shiro will shut the live off regardless of an explanation.  “I know you all know what time it’s for.  You’ve been ever so patient for this, for us, and we’re so grateful you have been.  We hope we can reward you well.”

Keith hums, knowing that’s about as much input as he’ll be able to give.

Shiro turns his attention back to Keith, runs a hand through inky black hair and swipes a thumb over Keith’s bottom lip.  Keith immediately opens his mouth, and Shiro leans down to press his smile against those pink, moist lips.

“Are you going to be a good omega for me?” Shiro asks, slowly spreading that smile over Keith’s heated skin.  Keith moans, already arching into it.  “Are you going to have a good heat for your alpha?  Spread your legs?  Take my knot?  Are you going to do that for me?”

Keith has already partially forgotten where he is or what he’s doing, all he knows is that alpha, _his_ alpha, is asking him something.  He agrees, hoping that’s the right answer.  He stretches his limbs, knocking his arms and legs against Shiro’s.  He hears Shiro laugh, feels warmth trail down his neck and chest.

“If you put on a good show for the lovelies, if you make sure to be the best omega I know you are, I’ll fill you up.”

All Keith hears is ‘fill’ and mewls at the thought, at the memories that flood him of previous heats when Shiro had fisted his hair and brought their bodies together so savagely he had cried.  Remembers how good it had felt to be knotted, tied, bonded, to his alpha, to his mate, to his love.

“What do you all say?” Shiro addresses the camera, at the audience already filling their inbox with tips and requests and praise.  Shiro can already tell they’re going to earn a small fortune for this, gets giddy at the idea, but even more so when Keith whimpers beneath him, and remembers being on show is not his only job for the afternoon.

He’s definitely knows which one he prefers.

“I think baby here is ready for it,” Shiro says, his voice strained as he fights to keep Keith grounded.  Keith gets clumsy during heats, flinging limbs this way and that until Shiro pins him down and gives him what he wants.  Shiro doesn’t mind, has never minded.  “But we should warm him up first.  Any suggestions?”

Keith hears the ping, ping, ping as the chat fills with messages.  He ignores them, doesn’t care what they say, only that Shiro’s nipple is at the perfect level to easily take into his mouth, so he does.  Shiro hisses, not expecting it, but plays with Keith’s hair as Keith sucks and tugs at the pert bud, hands splayed over that glorious chest that’s _his_ and only _his._

“Someone’s rowdy,” Shiro grabs both of Keith’s wrists and slams his body back down onto the covers.  There’s still so much warmth and good smells around him, so he doesn’t mind, but licks his lips at already missing that nipple between his lips.  Shiro laughs, and the sound _feels_ so good against Keith’s hot and restless body.  “But someone has tipped us a rather large amount for me to fuck your thighs.”

Again, Keith only hears what he wants to hear, which is _fuck_ , so merely nods and whimpers.

Keith is sad when Shiro pulls off, when he straightens up so he’s incredibly close but still so far away.  Keith doesn’t have to feel sad for long, because Shiro grabs his hips and twists him with no effort at all.  Keith is a ragdoll as Shiro positions him on his side, and yanks his underwear down so his thighs are forced together.  Keith whimpers again, breathes, and flinches when Shiro trails a hand up between the seam of his thighs to his sensitive cock.

“You’re already leaking here,” Shiro says, giving it a firm but short stroke.  “I wonder…”

Keith’s eyes grow wide as he feels Shiro part his ass-cheeks, and he feels slick begin to dribble from his hole.  His heat has always been rather fast acting and attentive, making him slick and fuckable a lot quicker than usual, without the unnecessary drugs in his system to speed things along.  Shiro has always known this about his mate, but had never considered how good that would be on camera.

“Mmmm, yes, you are so wet already.”  Shiro wastes no time in pressing the head of his cock against Keith’s hole, but trails himself past it where he nudges the corner where Keith’s thighs have been locked together.  If the underwear wasn’t enough, Shiro has placed himself in a position where he’s pressing Keith’s thighs into the bed, his strong hand already leaving bruises on the pale skin.  Keith shivers under the sheer strength Shiro emanates as he forces himself between those plump muscles.

Keith cries as Shiro’s cock slides between, so big and thick it reaches his balls easily, brushing them beautifully.  Keith feels his hole tighten, wondering how he can feel good without an intrusion.  He only whines, makes soft noises as Shiro slowly begins to move, making his own deep and guttural sounds.

“That’s it,” Shiro praises.  “You’re too good.  Look at you, so eager and willing.  The perfect omega for an alpha like me to get off on.”

There’s something sweet about Shiro’s dirty talk, and Keith’s mind hooks onto it like a hotwire.  He scrambles over the sheets, wanting more but, in his haze of hormones, is unsure where to find it.  Shiro grips his knees and his neck, twisting him into a new position.  Keith is unsure what for, but doesn’t fight it.  He could never fight his alpha. 

“Look at him,” Shiro speaks, and Keith is confused as to who.  Somewhere in the back of his mind, he remembers they’re not entirely alone.  “Look at my perfect omega.  His thighs are taking me so well, so tight around my cock.  Imagine how good his ass will be?”

Shiro shifts, continues to slide his cock between Keith’s leg, nudging his balls against Keith’s ass cheeks.  Keith whimpers, feels filthy for wanting it so hard, and revels in that feeling.  He wants to feel dirty, because his alpha wants him to be dirty.  Shiro’s cock continues to nudge Keith’s own cock, but it’s not enough.

Keith opens his mouth, whines, looking up at Shiro, pleading with his eyes.  He feels Shiro’s movements stutter, before he feels a hand thick in his hair and a tongue prying his mouth open.  Keith chokes on Shiro’s tongue and spit and his nails dig into Shiro’s shoulders, but he welcomes it all.  The hard angle, the insistent press of Shiro’s muscles against his, the cum and slick gathering between his thighs that makes him feel equally parts ashamed and good.

“If omega isn’t getting impatient, I sure as hell am.  How should I take him?” Shiro asks, voice deep and husky and Keith can hear the predatory growl growing. 

There’s the usual noise as their audience pleads and begs for certain positions.  Keith isn’t sure which one he wants, only knows that as long as he’s filled, and filled soon, any of them will be good.

“Oh-hoh,” Shiro’s voice has turned amused, cunning.  Keith feels his heart quicken and his mind race.  “I love it.”

Shiro leaves Keith, momentarily.  Keith is beginning to lose himself to his heat entirely, so isn’t aware Shiro never went far, and gasps when those large hands are on him.  His underwear is pulled from his legs, fingers tightening around the back of his knees, his body yanked so he’s pressed ass first to Shiro’s body.  Shiro straddles one leg, throwing the other over his shoulder, and presses the head of his aching prick to Keith’s soaked hole.  Shiro chose this position because it’s reminiscent of the first time he watched Keith’s live, the first position he watched Keith fuck himself with that red dildo.  It’s the first position Shiro went to bed thinking of recreating with his own body, and he can’t believe it’s taken him this long to make it a reality.

“Are you ready, Keith?  My omega?”

In Shiro’s current position, Keith’s hands are left free to wander and scrabble against the sheets before he’s filled.  Keith cries, truly screams, as he’s finally allowed to take that hot cock.  The position opens him up beautifully, so he feels every part of Shiro’s dick as it’s pushed in.  Keith gasps and moans, unsure what to think or say as Shiro begins to move his hips.

Keith can hear Shiro groan, can feel his fingers tighten over his leg as it’s used to draw his body closer while Shiro humps and thrusts and jerks himself into Keith.  Keith can’t help but throw his head back as best he can, exposing his throat, accidentally putting his bond mark on display for Shiro to gaze at as he fucks his omega in earnest.  Keith’s lucky he remembered to stretch before this, because his knee is practically shoved against his shoulder as Shiro bends down to lick and suck and bite at the mark.

“Sh-Shiro!  Shiro!” Keith finds his voice, crying out.  Shiro fucks harder, deeper, and Keith cries more.

“That’s it,” Shiro’s voice is heavy with gasps and his chest is heaving with the exertion, but Keith silently begs him not to stop.  He knows Shiro never would, unless he was asked.  “You’re so beautiful.  You take my cock so well.  You were made for it, made to ride it and have your ass eat it up like it’s your last meal.”

Keith feels his eyes wet with tears.  Hiccups leave his throat as he sobs, the pleasure too intense, too good, his body feeling every touch and thrust over a thousand times more acute than normal.  He’s so tired already, yet he’s not done.  He needs it.

“Alpha,” Keith gasps, begs, cries.  “Knot!”

Shiro quickly twists him so both legs are either side of Shiro’s wide hips, and bends him in half.  Shiro is on his knees, driving down into Keith in the best angle imagined.  With Keith’s ass facing the camera, Shiro can’t imagine how sinful this must look to their viewers, but he’s forgotten about the performance.  Shiro uses one hand to keep Keith’s legs where they are, the other to spread his cheeks and pucker his hole, sliding in once, twice, thrice, before he pushes his knot past the ring of muscle and locks them together.

Keith screams, cumming over his chest and face, slick gushing out over his ass and around Shiro’s knot.  Shiro groans, growls, low and deep as his orgasm follows, filling Keith with as much cum as he can. 

Keith, ever the perfect omega, flexes and spasms and milks Shiro for all he’s worth.  Shiro flinches, gasps, every time he feels Keith tighten around him that little bit more.  He’s not sure how long it is before he comes back to himself, remembering they’re still live, still streaming, but quickly locks eyes with the camera as he slowly relaxes Keith into a more comfortable position.

His mate is spread underneath him, eyes shut, cheeks wet with tears, chest heaving as he slowly recovers from the first orgasm, the first knot, of his heat.  From this, Shiro can tell it’s going to be an intense one, and he’s already looking forward to what the coming days holds for them.  Shiro smiles at the camera, bending forward as far as he can, luckily just far enough, to be able to turn off the live stream.

“Thanks you so much, lovelies,” Shiro breathes, huffing as he struggles to hold himself upright.  Keith is beginning to shift, their tied bodies protesting to any movement now, against any action besides sleep. “This has been fun.  Maybe when my boyfriend is more coherent, we can talk about doing it again.  You’re all great.  Hope you enjoyed.”

Shiro’s words are rushed and impatient as he finally clicks the button to stop the feed, yanking the chord out of the camera for good measure, and finally relaxes between Keith’s legs.  Keith whimpers, struggling, and Shiro smiles an exhausted smile before scooping him up and crawling over to place him gently against the pillows.

“Keith,” Shiro is careful when he moves, his knot still bulging and keeping them locked together.  “Keith, are you okay?”

Keith is high on orgasmic bliss.  His eyes are shut, dark lashes kiss his pink cheeks, lips parted and wet as he his breathing slowly returns to normal.  Eventually, he blinks his eyes open, reaching up trembling hands to cup Shiro’s face.  Shiro immediately kisses his mate’s palms, bending down so they can share a fierce kiss, arching Keith so they’re forced even deeper together if at all possible.

Shiro knows Keith won’t be able to speak coherently for a few more minutes, so simply strokes the omega’s lips and tongue with his own, holds him tight and is careful not to lie too much weight upon him.  Eventually, Keith becomes lucid, running hands over Shiro’s shoulders and back and reciprocating the heady kisses.

“’M love you,” Keith mumbles.  His eyes are wet, his cheeks rosy, his hair a sweaty mess.  Shiro knows they’re disgusting below, covered in sweat and slick and cum from the both of them, but Shiro refuses to move, even if he physically could.

“I love you, too.  My mate.  My sweet omega.”

As if the word had triggered him, Keith arches his neck, showing off his bitten neck once again.  Shiro wastes no time in lapping over it, biting into it, reaffirming their bond.  Keith’s legs tighten around Shiro’s hips.  Shiro sucks until he knows there’ll be a hefty bruise there in the morning, one for Keith to wear for the remainder of his heat.

Keith hums, relaxed now that he’s been sexually sated for the time being.  Shiro chuckles, nosing Keith’s hair and kissing his jawline.

“Do you want to shower now, or later?  Would you rather eat?” Shiro asks, once his knot has started to slowly shrink and he manages to come free with a satisfying pop.  True to his word, Keith’s hole drips with even more mess.  Shiro is thankful for the pile of ready-to-change sheets in the corner of the room.

“Wanna shower,” Keith is still stroking Shiro’s face however, still lost to the instincts of his heat.  “Want you to fuck me against the shower wall.”

Shiro’s breath hitches.  “Christ, Keith.”  They both laugh, both kiss and moan against each other.  Shiro may have been able to pull free, but he refuses to put even an inch of space between them.  Eventually though, they manage to get to the bathroom, Keith wound around Shiro’s torso and Shiro using that heavenly bod to move them across the hotel space.

“How did the show go?  I was pretty gone for most of it,” Keith is becoming only slightly more awake, but Shiro knows it will be short lived.  They step under the spray, and Shiro immediately begins work wiping away the mess over Keith’s crotch and ass.

“I didn’t actually get a good look at our total when I shut the live off, but I know we got a lot just from the thigh fucking itself.”

Keith shivers at the memory.  “You should do that again,” Keith sways his hips against Shiro’s hands, pressing his back to his mate’s chest.  “Do it from behind so I feel _all_ of that gorgeous cock.”

Shiro has to grab at the tiled wall to stop from crumpling in a heap at Keith’s feet.

“I’m gonna fuck that smart mouth until you learn to keep it shut,” Shiro threatens, smiling against Keith’s neck as he presses his lips to the wet skin.  Keith’s laugh echoes throughout the bathroom, amplified by the tiles and  high ceiling.  Shiro wraps his arms around Keith, and they sway on the spot to music not there, revelling in what they’ve found in each other.

“Can I say one thing before you do?” Keith twists, only minutely, enough to look up into Shiro’s eyes.

“What’s that?” Shiro raises an eyebrow, wary of what snark is about to come from Keith’s mouth this time.

“I love you,” Keith is so honest and his eyes bleed his words, Shiro softly gasps.  “I love you so much.  I’m so happy you’re my mate, my alpha.”

Shiro can’t stop, won’t stop, the smile that spreads across his face at Keith’s words.  He cups Keith’s face and walks him back until he’s pressed against the wall, where Shiro can crowd against him and kiss the life from those gorgeous, rosy lips.  He doesn’t need to say it in return, only begins to let his hands roam and cup and squeeze, as tenderly as he can allow himself, letting Keith sink back into his heated haze and live Shiro’s answer in his breath, in his lips and in his touches.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's done! Again, thank-you to Synne for commissioning me this amazing prompt! It's been too good to write and explore! 
> 
> Let me know what you think; I appreciate any and all feedback!
> 
> Find me on twitter @KinkyKeithy to discuss sheith with me, I'm always open to making new friends!

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: CAM WORK IS NOT EASY. PORN IS NOT EASY. SEX WORK IS NOT EASY. Keith is very ignorant of this at the moment, but he learns later. Do not go into this industry thinking it's easy money; it's not. It's just like any other job; hard work and most often than not, very disappointing.


End file.
